Dysfuntional Comeback
by PsychoDirector
Summary: The Organization is back and ready for action! ...Well, maybe not. Each must face their own personal challenges, from strange and creepy hallucinations to having a girl's name. At times funny, terrifying, sad, or many more genres, it's well worth a read.
1. Darkness Falls

**Psycho Director: **_Guess who's back, back! Back again! Psycho's back, back! Tell a friend! _Ah, new stories always get me in the mood to _sing_! Like a pansy, yes, but so help me, I'll be the BEST PANSY IN ZE WORLD! _Now everybody get up on the dancefloor! Alright, stop. Summary time, yeah!_

**Rating PG-13 as usual: Strong violence, strong language, mild to moderate sexual references. No likey, then leave... y.**

**Pairings: LarxenexDemyx (or LarxenexXigbar. I haven't made up my mind), XaldinxSora's mom (yes, I am insane), hints of MarluxiaxSora and Rikuxthat bent Paupu tree (along with any other random object I can think of).**

**Summary: **The Organization is back and ready for action! Okay, maybe not. Larxene's hallucinating, Demyx has amnesia, Xaldin has a crush on a certain someone, Axel just found out he has a girl's name, Riku just wants a friend, and through it all, Aerith just wants someone to buy her products. Warning: RANDOMNESS! STRONG LANGUAGE! VIOLENCE! ADVERTISEMENTS FOR CHAIN OF MEMORIES! In that order. Though I warn you, the first few chapters aren't funny. They're plot-building.

_Chapter 1_

_Larxene's PoV_

"I was falling, falling, falling in darkness. That's what I remember first. I fell lifelessly further into an endless ocean of black, for what seemed like days on end. As time passed inevitably, and the world remained black, I noted that I was becoming gradually more and more… bored out of my mind. It's true: the whole spiritual feeling of lost, hopeless emptiness had faded off after the first few hours. Or was it days? Or seconds? I had no clue. In a way, that just made it seem all the more boring." I froze as I realized that I had been saying all that out loud. Oops. That was the problem here—you couldn't tell if you were thinking or saying something.

I can't quite remember most of what I did during that fall for most of it, only bits and pieces. I played with the spangly things on my cloak. I counted seconds. I sank 'Ring Around the Rosie' until it echoed around in my brain like carnival music. I held imaginary conversations with everyone else in the Organization.

At first I was angry. This was all Axel's fault! Him and Naminé and Twerpy What's-His-Face and his creepy, cheery animal friends. The fags were probably all gathered around some cozy fire (along with Roxas, who I also disliked, but not necessarily hated), chatting happily about how they had sent everyone in Castle Oblivion to their deaths. _Especially _me. After all, they reasoned, who in their right minds would care for a sadistic bitch who betrayed everyone the first chance she got? No one, that's who. I was better off here.

"That's not true!" I argued with my mental image furiously. "Marluxia cared about me!" But… did he really? After all, they say Nobodies can't have feelings, so how could he have possibly cared? And, if he had cared, why didn't he stop me from fighting the Keyblade Master? It was a suicide mission; everyone knew it—except me. I was far too cocky in my own abilities at the time. Was he just as disillusioned as I was about my strength? Was he, right now, mourning over my 'death'? Or—God forbid—was he dead, too? Or did he really not give a damn about me? My head had felt too empty in the beginning; now it was so full my brain felt like it was ramming against my skull.

"Alright, screw Marluxia. What about… What about Demyx? He was okay, I guess," I reasoned. Well, in truth, he was scared shitless of me, but always _seemed_ nice. Of all the members, he was the only one who offered help when I accidentally stabbed my hand with a butcher knife making dinner (we used a wheel to decide who did what chore—why am I thinking about that?). He also stuck up for me when I failed a pretty hard mission, even though everyone else was all for demotion.

And he was so laid back and carefree, and always had good advice, and was kind of cute in a weird sort of way, and… _Gah, why am I thinking so much about him_!? He hates me. _Everyone_ hates me. Even Marluxia, I'm sure. He was just using me to power his little resistance plan. The whole Organization, Naminé, Whatever-His-Name-Is and the animal things, even people I don't even _know_… just a big barrel of hate. It'd be depressing, but after a while, that faded off, too. Now I was just numb and cold.

I started wondering who I would want to be in here with me, if I'd had a choice. Demyx was the list first, of course. Of everyone I had ever known, he was the only one who could stay cheerful in a mess like this. Let's see, now, who else?

Xigbar was the next to join in on the mental list. With his carefree, confident and cocky attitude, he could probably last almost as long as Demyx before he went insane. I was starting to doubt my sanity myself. I could almost hear him, bragging about how many Heartless he had killed on his last mission or messing with the chairs in the meeting room. I had joined him on his tricking once, and doubtless would have again. But, as fate would have it, that happened the day before I got my mission to make base at Castle Oblivion.

_So what? Dudette, you'll be in and outta' there in ten minutes, especially considering you got Lexeous and Marluxia there. Seriously, what's a little kid going to be able to do to six of our best guys, especially after Nami bombs his head?_

AUUUUGH I'M LOSING MY _MIIIIIIIND_!!!!!!!!

I suppose Xemnas would have to go on the list, and not just because he's the 'Superior'. I'm not like the other brown-nosing members of the Organization. It had half to do with the fact that I was _so lonely_, and half to do with the fact that I was losing my mind, I'm sure. Xemnas is perfect at controlling things like that, same goes for Saïx. They're like twins of each other, those two, but without the looking alike. Though it was tough to tell for sure, seeing as they were both the types to waste their lives locked inside their rooms all day.

Xaldin? Well, why not? He wasn't much of a talker, except at times to Luxord or Vexen or Zexion. Still, he had this kind of calm confidence around him, like a psychiatrist, which I desperately needed. I felt that I could trust him if I really needed to. We were also both sadistic: only mine being more towards the psychological type (or just killing people—literally—from the inside out), and his being more of a gore-obsessive. Couldn't really tell by just looking at him, could you?

Crap, I was already bored of analyzing the other members. Let's just say they eventually all found their way onto the list—yes, even Axel and Marluxia. I'd even speak to Naminé, even though she was scared of me almost as bad as Demyx was and would probably just say "yes, ma'am" or "no, ma'am" all the time. So what if I'm a scary person? It gets the job done.

Ah, that only let Shorty McMiniature and… um… whatever the hell those other things were. Would I be able to stand having them with me through eternity? While the thought of them falling like this gave me amazing, but brief, happiness, I doubted I could stand so much as talking to them. What did we have in common? I was tall; he was _puny._ (seriously, I can not get over just how tiny he is. He looks about twelve, maybe eleven, and nearly as skinny as Axel. Did he ever _eat_? I sometimes like to pretend he has abusive parents who barely give him any food or clothes that aren't too big, like his pants and shoes. It helps me take my 'death' a little easier) I was human; They were not. I loved violence and torture and all of that other kinky stuff; he just seemed to like big shoes and stereotypical morals. I wanted to kill them; they wanted to kill me. It was like the big, bad wolf and the three little pigs. I huffed and I puffed, but in the end, I just got boiled alive. I seriously doubted that the wolf would be so forgiving of the pigs after that, and neither was I. This place sucked, and I was horribly lonely, but not _that _much. So the tiny brat and the anthro-freaks stayed off the list. My list was done, and I was still falling. Shit.

I wondered how long this would last. I couldn't really fall forever, could I? Sooner or later I had to hit ground, or wake up, right? Would I wake up in my room in Castle Oblivion, waiting for the short, bratty little snot to show up and be made into a marionette? Or maybe in the Castle That Never Was, still waiting for my next assignment? Or as a Somebody, maybe, absently wondering what all of those giant black ants in my backyard are and what they're doing. My head pulsed harder.

Was this Purgatory? Would I really honestly just fall and fall and fall, until I lost all awareness of myself? It wasn't Heaven, nor Hell (though it sure felt like it), just the same old unimportant, nothing middle. The prospect, I'll admit, terrified me.

"No!" I yelled as loud as I could. "_No_! I'll do anything—just don't let this last forever! Let it end!"

The ground was actually pretty damn hard.

I slammed against the hard… floor?… roughly, crying out as every nerve in my body suddenly exploded in a new feeling: pain, and lots of it. Come to think about it, it may have been mostly the sudden exposure to a new feeling that made it hurt as much as it did, but it was still _agony_—made worse by the fact that the ground was at a slope, and I was rapidly sliding down it. My hands scrabbled across the surface, searching desperately for something to hold onto. Unfortunately, the ground was so perfectly, _perfectly _smooth (like glass) that there was none, and I kept sliding, sliding, back back back more more more…

Oh, shit. My feet were over the edge. I couldn't help it: I screamed. Just like a little pansy girl. My ankles slid over, then my legs, thighs, waist… I panicked… Shit shit _shit_ no this isn't happening this can't be happening it's not happening oh God why is it happening oh God I'm going to fall fall fall forever I can't keep a grip I can't think straight I'm so close I'm going to fall someone help me help me please why is this place _so damn slippery smooth _I'm over the edge my head's over the edge I can see stained glass so pretty it's everywhere I'm falling I'm grabbing onto the edge I'm gonna' let go I know I am I am I am I haven't yet but I will and then I will fall fall fall I still haven't let go but I can't hang on forever help me help me help me I don't want to fall anymore Momma I don't like this ride can we do something else I really want to play on the swings instead take me home please help me help me God or anyone listening I need help I'm going to fall fall fall except I haven't yet but I will I know I will if someone doesn't help me not fall fall fall please someone anyone…

Okaaaay… sanity coming back right around… now. Well, more sensible _in_sanity, in any case. I was dangling over the edge, only kept from falling to my doom by my strained white fists clenching at the edge of the floor. My nails dug into the surface, but it stung the sensitive skin beneath them like crazy. Still, I wouldn't let go. I wasn't that crazy! I tried yelling instead.

"Hey, someone! Anyone! Help! I'm slipping! Please, help!" Hey, I'm not above begging when I'm desperate like that. As it was, I soon spotted someone slowly approaching, walking easily down the slope of the floor. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, hey you! Help! I'm stuck here!"

The person neared to where I was, and I groaned inwardly. There was no way I could fail to recognize his spiky, red hair, black cloak just like mine, and silver and red chakrams held in his fists. It was Axel. Isn't that just typical? You ask for a life raft; you get a rock. Still, I was in no position to complain.

"Axel, listen. You don't like me, and I _really _don't like you. But seriously, you must have fallen and landed here, too, right? Do you really want to send someone else down that path? And, uh…" I racked my brain, my hands becoming more and more sore as the seconds ticked by. "I know I haven't been the most _loyal_ Organization member, sure, but you weren't, either! All we wanted was some power, but who doesn't? I know you probably liked the little br—kid a bit, but we weren't going to kill him or anything like that. All we wanted was his help in taking over. We wouldn't have killed—or even hurt—you, or him, or Roxas or whoever else. We don't have any reason to be enemies. So, can't you just let me up, then we can just forgive and forget. I mean, have you seen me beg for mercy, _ever_? I'm feeling pretty desperate right now. I'd just about agree to anything." That was it. I played nearly all my trump cards in that phrase. I promised peace to him, peace to his friends, peace to whoever wanted peace, logic, forgiveness, bribery, and basically gave him control of my destiny (or so he thought—like I'd give that pedo pervert '_anything_' if he helped me!). He didn't speak for a long time (while my hands felt like they were being stung by dozens of bees and it took most all of my effort just to hang on), then finally bent down so we were eye-to-eye. I noticed that his eyes were oddly blank, like looking into green smoke, sort of. It gave me a sinking feeling in the pits of my stomach.

"You can't feel regret," he said simply, tonelessly. "You can't feel anything."

"Well, yeah," I countered, "but I still don't want to fall!"

"You deserve it. You're just a Nobody. They don't deserve to live."

"_Excuse me_? What does that make you, a sandwich?" He blinked, as if he hadn't understood me.

"I'm going to do you a favor," he said in the same, emotionless voice. I grinned weakly in relief, positive that he was going to hold out a hand and help me up. Who knew? Maybe I really would forgive him. After all, what had set us apart was long gone. We only had each other _and we had to repopulate the planet_!! …Okay, _hell_ no. I'd kill myself or 'fall' myself long before it came to that. Let him do it with himself if he wanted to.

Suddenly I was in _blinding, horrible pain_! I shrieked loudly, realizing that it came from my already hurt fingers. Axel had slammed his boot on them, then twisted his foot side to side, like putting out a cigarette. I hated to think about what was going on under the foot. My mind kept envisioning the skin being torn off the flesh of my fingers, ripping apart on the lattice of the underside of his boot and getting stuck between the grooves. I doubted that was what was happening, but it sure felt like it. I screamed loudly and harshly, then felt my fingers unclench. I was holding onto nothing, supported by nothing.

"_Nooooo_!" I yelled, tumbling down into the blackness below. Axel's figure shrunk away, until I couldn't even see him anymore. Still, I screamed until my voice was out and my throat felt raw, then almost started crying. Why? Why? I had been so close—_so close_—to escaping this miserable nightmare, only to have it taken away by some bastard with an anger issue! Words couldn't even come _close _to describing how I felt then—about him, about my situation, about life, about _everything_. It was like I was being torn apart on the inside, and I couldn't get it to stop.

I was in for a long, long fall.

_To be continued! Whee!_


	2. Happy Buttercup Hotel Land

**Psycho Director: **Hey, everybody! Long time no update, aye? Well, then, I have something special for you! Drumrollplz.

-duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun...-

A DOUBLE-CHAPTER UPDATE! -Fwee- Don't you feel special? I know I do! So, less talk, more... talk. This chapter is, again, in Larxene's PoV. The next one will be in Xaldin's, and the next in Xigbar's. I'm probably not going to do all of the members' PoVs unless by popular demand, because some will be _working together to save the future_! Or something like that.

... You heard nothing.

**Rating PG-13: Medium violence, strong language, minimal sexual references.**

* * *

**_Chapter 2_**

_Still Larxene's PoV. I like eet._

I woke up abruptly, screaming bloody murder. It went something like… oh, I don't know… "_AXEL I'M GOING TO KILL YOU AND EVERYONE ELSE YOU CAN'T STOP ME I'LL BE BACK AND YOU'LL BE NOTHING EXCEPT A PILE OF ELECTRIFIED ASHES, YOU HEAR ME!? I'M GOING TO STAB MY KUNAI INTO YOUR STOMACH AND WATCH YOU BLEED AND_… and… huh?" Suddenly I realized: I wasn't in Happy Darkish Land anymore. Instead, I had apparently detoured to Happy Yellow Buttercup Hotel Room Land. Allow me to explain.

The entire room I was in was done up in a yellow and white color scheme. The bed I was resting on had an oak wooden frame, with white sheets, cream-colored pillows, and a yellow comforter with sunflowers printed all over it. Meanwhile, the walls were done so that they were white at the bottom for about three feet, then switched abruptly to yellow, but with still keeping the white for the borders of the door and window. Said window was a fancy, really big window caving outwards, with a window seat coated in wool pillows below it. On the opposite wall were two more, smaller windows some space apart, and between them was the door and a vertical line of three paintings of sunflowers in wood frames, as well as a big, oval mirror hung near floor level on the wall. Using it, I could see a large, framed picture of a church in a field hanging above the bed, and two side tables with what looked to be family photos, an alarm clock, a wristwatch, and a pair of yellow and gold lamps. I glanced to either side; yep, they were there. It was Thursday, December 5, 9:23 AM, according to the clock.

The decorations in the room were very designer, I could tell. An oak coffee table was just in front of the bed, and a small closet was against the far wall, just to the right of the pictures (the door was on the left). It seemed mostly unoccupied, for the vast majority of the clothes were inside a huge oak wardrobe pressed between the two windows of the right wall. I glanced to the right further to see a desk placed neatly in the corner, facing out, with just enough room between it and the wall to allow the user to slide in and out. It should be noted that the chair with the desk had white cushions, the wardrobe had gold painted borders, and the curtains for the windows were yellow with light yellow daisies on them. I gazed around the room, then gave my expert critique.

"Makes me want to torch this place to the ground already," I grumbled, then paused. "Is that… is that my voice?" I had always been a soprano, hands down—now I could probably pass off as an alto (that's a really high voice to middle voice, for those of you who aren't much for singing). Now that I thought about it, I felt different all over. I stood up shakily, using the headboard as a handhold, then straightened up and headed to the mirror. While it wasn't what I'd call a marathon race, it was about as easy to do, menaing it was pretty hard. I ended up having to press most of my weight again the wall and limping, but I made it. Feeling self-confident, I peered into the mirror, then gasped.

Gone was my original, 'antenna' hairstyle. The two strands I had prided myself on making stand up like they did before had lost all of their energy, their buoyancy, their… buggy-ness. Instead, they hung down limply against my face. Also, my hair had dark highlights, and was cut shorter (except for the two strands). And I had bangs! But that was only my _hair_. The rest of me was a different story.

My skin was very slightly darker, just enough for me to notice, and I had on an unusual outfit. It was a black hooded T-shirt with neon green trim. It also had a huge, green radioactive symbol in the center, and a large, green-trimmed pocket shaped like a trapezoid. That's a triangle with its head hacked off. I also had light grey jeans and checkerboard-design skater shoes. Skater-emo-raver punk? Me? _Naaaah_.

"Wow, I'm sexy," I breathed. Then I started laughing at the thought that I could find my own self _sexy_. And laughing. And laughing. "It feels… _funny_…" I choked out between bits of mirth. Suddenly all traces of laughter died, and I stared blankly at my own reflection. It feels funny. It _feels_. _I _feel!

I pressed my hand to my wrist tentatively, listening for the familiar _thump-thump _of a heartbeat. There was one; of course. I could expect as much. After all, the internal organ type heart was just a mass of blood and tissues that happens to share the same name. The true heart—the one I lost—was the haven for all of our true emotions, memories, and part of your sense of Self (the most of it being hidden in your soul). Still, I knew, I could _feel_, that the real thing was there. I was a Somebody again.

I wasn't sure what to do first. Should I dance and whoop for joy? Should I cheer and barbecue the room in a 'fit of happiness'? Or should I get out of here and celebrate later? I can feel, I can feel, I can _feel_!

"I'm back, baby," I grinned at my reflection, holding a fist to my face in a determined gesture.

"Good. I missed beating the stuffing out of you." I turned around, surprised to hear an answer when I was sure I was alone. My face paled. There on the bed—just sitting there, like he was my little brother or something—was the Keyblade Master. There could be no mistake. He had the same spiky brown hair, same weird red jumpsuit, same huge yellow shoes… and same cocky expression on his face and giant key in his fist. I scowled at him.

"No, you're not taking this away from me." He wagged a finger in front of my face, like a teacher telling off a schoolgirl instead of a bratty little kid facing the living dead _that the little bastard had killed in the first place_!

"Didn't I tell you before? You don't deserve this. You're _nothing_. _Nobody_. All you deserve is a quick fade to black and a long, loooong fall." I held out a hand behind me, grinning slightly. A few shocks to the head would teach this runt his place, now, wouldn't it? Just as soon as my _kunai _came… Nothing came, and I blinked in surprise.

"What…?"

"I don't know about you, but I don't think it's working." I felt like screaming at his calm demeanor. _How _was this happening? Where were my_ kunai_? I needed to _fight_! Twerpy only giggled. "You know, you always were a slow one. That was what I hated about you. You call everyone else slow and stupid because you _just can't bear_ to realize that you were the one who was being duped all along. Where's Marluxia now, huh? You're not Larxene, the mighty mean warrior who can trample anything in her path. You're still just Relena, the stupid girl who couldn't figure out what those black ants that kept popping up were. Hey, maybe if you try and _talk to them_, they'll go away, right?" He laughed, and I growled.

"That's not how it happened! Don't you _dare _joke about things you can't even _begin _to understand!" I still didn't have my _kunai_, but I would have to make due. I leapt up onto the bed, attempting to choke the brat to death, but he jumped off of the bed half a second beforehand, then continued his tirade.

"Yep, you're as slow as ever. Funny, really. You keep thinking you're so mighty and powerful, but you were the easiest one to kill. You were even easier to kill than Xigbar, the easiest of them all." I prepared to attack again, when what he said suddenly hit home.

"Wait… what are you talking about? Xigbar isn't… he isn't dead, no way! He'd never lose to a pint-sized brat like you! And what do you mean, 'all'?" He giggled again.

"I mean, _all_. All of Organization XIII. Who could believe that, for all your plans, you were all a bunch of wimps?" I stood there, letting all of this sink in. Everyone I had known throughout my life as a Nobody, dead? And to this… this… bratty little boy with an oversized key for a weapon? Why hadn't Xigbar shot him? Why didn't Saïx just maul him to death? Why didn't Demyx just drown him? Why… why… why?

"You're confused, aren't you? But it's so simple. I… am better… than you. That's all there is to it. And if I have to, then I'll prove it again." That's it. This battle was so _on_.

I grabbed a lamp from one of the side tables, then swung it at his head. He easily dodged out of the way, then yawned loudly, waving a gloved hand in front of his mouth like a fan. OK, what the hell? When did he get so _fast_!?

Determined still, I chucked the lamp at him. Missed. It shattered against the wall into tiny pieces—no loss there, except for now I needed a new weapon. Good thing there were two lamps in the room. I leapt over the bed, grabbed the space lamp, rolled, and then was back in the game in a matter of seconds. The brat held up his Keyblade like a baseball bat, a ready look on his face. I responded by grasping the lamp firmly in my clawed hand, then pulled it back a little.

"Bring it on, slowpoke!" he yelled, bending down a little and adjusting his Keyblade. I paused, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, like I'm that stupid." Instead of me chucking the lamp like he hand expected, I lunged forward, swinging it in a wide arc. Caught by surprise, I was able to land a hard blow across his left cheek. Finally, I had a hit in!

Twerpy jumped back a few steps, then paused to rub his fist against his hurt cheek. It came back with a small trail of blood across his gloves (ha, I _stained_ you, too, bitch!), and I could see the reason why. In bashing it across his stupid face, the lamp had developed a series of thin cracks around the point of impact, as well as a few missing bits. That poor, poor lamp. At least it was for a good cause.

"Wow, how about that," Twerpy mused (I'm sick of coming up with a list of deriving nicknames to be recycled. I'm naming him Twerpy). "You actually hurt me a little bit. Congratulations. You managed to land a hit on a twelve-year-old kid. Your mom must be so proud. No, wait, she can't—she's dead. I forgot. My bad." I growled under my breath, clenching my fist until my knuckles were white.

"You stupid, naïve little brat. I'm going to _kill_ you." Twerpy laughed.

"Well that makes me the safest person in the building." I glanced over at him; his vicious, ruthless eyes, cocky grin, and relaxed but firm positioning. He reminded me vaguely—very vaguely—of who I remembered to be his Nobody. Roxas and I hadn't exactly been buddy-buddy during our time together in the Organization, but he wasn't someone I'd consider particularly hate-worthy, either. Sure, we were partners for missions from time to time, but even then our conversations consisted of hardly more than 'there's some Heartless' or 'how many hearts did ya' get?'. With twelve other guys around, Roxas just seemed to be one of the crowd. He kept to himself, and mostly hung out with Axel or Demyx, or sometimes Zexion or Luxord.

Still, from what I could gather, Roxas wasn't anything like Twerpy in any way. He was a far cry from the cheerful, optimistic, "Naminé, Naminé, where's Naminé?" kid who had killed me. (_Tried _to kill, Larx, _tried. _And _failed_) On the other hand, he also wasn't like this new Twerpy, either. He was emotionless like the rest of us, and quiet. He didn't do much for laughing or smiling, unlike Twerpy, who was laughing at pretty much anything I threw at him, albeit a cynical one. He did what Xemnas told him to, then went and had ice cream with Axel. (Every. Freaking. Day. Same ice cream. Same place. The guy seriously needs to lay off the sugar/salt) Nothing special. Twerpy, however… Was he just totally racist, or did he kill people for fun? He was a psychopath, end of story.

Oh, shit. I forgot—we were still fighting. I narrowly dodged a swipe of Twerpy's Keyblade, then countered with a vicious blow to the small of his back. He fell down hard, giving me ample time to kick him once… or twice… or five times… before he got back up, coughing—_but still grinning_. By this time we were both beat up and sweaty, gasping for air. As much as I hated to admit it, we seemed to be at a tie. So why was he grinning like a maniac?

"You won't win," he said in a singsong voice. I frowned, lowering my body into a more defensive position.

"And why's that? Because you're just _so _amazing?" My tone of voice not only leaked by gushed sarcasm. Twerpy shook his head slowly, smiling still wider.

"No. Listen." Wait, what was he playing at? I didn't know… until I listened. Just outside the door to the room was the sound of footsteps, softly but determinedly coming towards us. I listened to them, my face frozen in shock, as the concept of us not being alone struck in.

Quickly, I gazed around the room, my horror growing. Saying it was a mess is like saying Twerpy is 'kind of annoying'. Three of the bedposts were snapped or had chucks ripped out of them, and the frame was broken in half, with blankets massing randomly in its drooping center. The vast majority of the paintings had been shaken from the walls, then trampled into bits. The window seat was rumpled and torn, and the large, spacey window had spider-web cracks dancing across its surface. The wardrobe was on its side, dented, with its contents strewn about. The desk was nothing more than pretty-looking firewood. Even the walls themselves were dented in places.

"I brought some snacks…" a voice sang from just outside the door. The brass knob turned ominously, as Twerpy and I exchanged glances. He seemed to be having trouble holding in his laughter. I, on the other hand, was near panic. With all this in mind, I had only two words to say. Rather than endure more silence, I blurted them out.

"Oh, Goddammit." Twerpy burst out laughing.

* * *

_ZE END. I mean, to be continued!_


	3. For The Love Of

**Psycho Director: **Part two. Enjoy. Yus, that's all.

**Rating PG-13: Moderate violence, strong language, minimum to no sexual references.**

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**_Chapter 3_**

_Xaldin's PoV_

The daylight sun cascaded down upon my face, staining the area behind my eyelids a deep, vague red. Meanwhile, the feel of warm, dry grass and cool dirt pressed against my back, further reminding me of how very far from where I had been I was now. I needn't so much as open my eyes to know: I had escaped from the cold world of darkness.

Somehow—I dared not question why—I had neither pains nor stiffness or other such harmful side effects from my brush with Death. My body didn't ache from the many times I had been struck by the Beast's mighty claws, or beaten by the angry wrath of the Keyblade. It seemed to me that the darkness had been someone beneficial after all. On the other hand, I had yet to open my eyes or sit up to face any and all results of my final crusade. That left me with a choice—to stay hidden behind the meek defense my eyelids provided, or to face this change of events with brave soul and open mind. The decision was not made by me.

"Hey, you awake?" A voice, piercing through my thoughts like a bludgeon through my skull. My ears, underexposed to any sort of noise during my stay in the darkness, burned. The voice was quick to caress them in its—no, her—own way, wrapping calmly around me with its unique and kind, yet brassy tone. "'Cause I'd hate to have to drag you. The neighbors want their lawn back." I had no choice; I had to open my eyes.

The first things to penetrate my vision were puffy, long white clouds in an unnaturally blue sky, gently billowing across its endless canvas. They were large that day, massing together against the horizon and giving promises of rain. Not one to care, I cast my eyes downward. Past the large clouds, in their pure whiteness. Past the horizon, where the land merged with a large body of water (a sea?). Past the splendid view of red-tinted houses and swaying palm trees in the distance, until I was forced to freeze.

There, framed by the sky, was where I first saw _her_. Her soulful blue eyes shone with hints of concern, and always seemed to have a laugh dancing behind them, begging to be let out. By simply staring at them, I felt as if my vision had never left the view of the sky. They were perfect.

The rest of her was just as exquisite. Her lightly tanned skin was virtually flawless, and her brown-blonde locks shone in a way that put the sun itself to shame. Her figure was graceful and slim, like a dancer's, hidden behind a blue and white T-shirt (with a large blue heart on it) and well worn jeans. Despite her doll-like physique, she was clearly far from delicate and vulnerable, a trait I strongly admired. Finally, as Xigbar would so indiscreetly say, "her rack wasn't too bad, either."

I must have been staring for longer than I had first estimated, as her light pout turned into an impatient frown. I was forced to focus as I saw a smooth, flawless hand pass in front of my face. It smelled of lilacs.

"Hey, hello? Anyone home?" I blinked a few times, forcing myself to focus on something other than her—no easy task, I can tell you.

"A-am I… dead?" I asked, a question I would surely regret only minutes later. But there. The laugh behind her eyes broke free, for just a moment.

"Unfortunately, no. Welcome back to the living." Slowly, painfully, I sat up. While the pain from my battle had gone, my body was still stiff with lack of earlier movement. This small task having been accomplished, I dared to glance around. It was late in the day, but not quite sunset. The palm trees lined the dirt roads in no semblance of order. While most housed only coconuts, I noted that some held large, yellow, star-shaped fruits amidst their leaves. I noted to question that later. In the meantime, however, more potent questions were tugging at my mind.

"Who are you?" I asked her, struggling to stand. She reached for my hand, and for a moment, her hand and mine met. The warmth of her skin, compared to the cold of the darkness, came as a sudden shock. It was tender and soft, a distant cry from my own, callused and rough one. Still, she didn't seem to mind my many flaws, and helped me to my feet. I wondered: could I ever be as perfect as she could, _for _her? Was this… love? No, it could not possibly be. Love was a feeling. I had no feelings to give to her.

"So, what's your story? How did a guy like you end up passed out where—I can assume—isn't exactly Kansas anymore. No one here, as far as I know, has seen you before, and it's a small island. There's no way here except by boat. So are you, like, a personal traveler or something?" I considered a good alibi, then decided that the truth would be the best decision—or rather, part of the truth.

"I'm not sure how I ended up here. I was attacked by four persons, and was overpowered and knocked unconscious. I can only assume they were the ones who brought me here." I paused to stretch, groaning as my back snapped. She seemed surprised.

"Okay… what the hell did you do to piss them off so much?" I shrugged lightly, gently dismissing it as nothing. Like I was beaten nearly to death and woke up in strange, foreign places every day. Who knew? Maybe people had done such stranger things here.

"I did nothing. It was who I _was_ that got them angry. You see, I am—or rather, I was—a member of an elite group of thirteen persons. We were searching for a strange item of legend, one that has yet to be proven or disproven. It might sound strange, but we were coming upon evidence that this legend might even be true. However, those four persons aforementioned believed we were planning to use the item for evil, and seeked to kill us before we could find it. As to why they brought me here instead of death… I haven't the faintest idea." She stared at me, long and hard, uncertain as to whether to believe me or not.

"Wait, what legend? What item?" She shook her head roughly. "Nevermind, I'll find out later. Why don't you come inside for some iced tea?" She pointed to a nearby house, and I nodded, struggling to not let my eagerness at this prospect show. Was she always this kind to strangers? Or maybe, just maybe, was she… starting to show feelings to me as well? Impossible! A Nobody and a Somebody could not hope to love! Especially when the Somebody was so much better, more _perfect_. It could not work. Then again, the cold was gone. Those strange, beautiful feelings were still inside me. _Was_ it possible? Was what I had quested so long for with me again? Did I have a heart to share with her? Please, let it be so!

"I don't believe I caught your name," I told her, as we began to walk to her abode.

"Ditto," she replied, instead of answering me.

"It's Dilan." I gave her my Somebody's name, as if to confirm the feelings I had inside.

"Nice to meet you, Dilan. It's Mikki." I took a moment to chuckle at the irony, then followed her. There was no need to become worked up over a simple shared name. In a place as perfect as this, there was virtually no chance of misfortune befalling me here, on this beautiful archipelago, this, this… I caught sight of a signpost while we walked up the driveway, and found the name to be incredibly suiting.

These Destiny Islands.

* * *

"So, do you have family near here?" I asked Mikki, sipping at a porcelain cup of mint tea. We were seated around her lovely dining room table—a rippled glass served for the majority of the face, but was lined with a thick white ring and matching white legs. The wicker chairs went oddly well with the table, which led me to assume that Mikki was excellent at interior design—another trait I adored. The walls were laced with wooden bookshelves and paintings of ports and other such seascapes, tiny knickknacks, and odd equipment, giving it a strange feeling of being on a seaport. I found it rather endearing.

Mikki stirred her own tea, adding in enough sugar to tranquilize a small animal, before nodding softly and taking a sip as well as I.

"Well, my Mum and Dad live right around the other side of the island, practically on the coast. They're great parents, but really independent. It takes a while before Mum will even let me do the dishes when we visit. And they're getting pretty old, so it's becoming a big problem." I raised an eyebrow.

"'We'?" I asked. Mikki smiled, and my heart (_if _I had one) melted.

"My son and I. We stop over from time to time, but, you know, it doesn't seem like that's enough. What if I go over there to find out that Mum fell down some stairs and broke her hip or something? I don't know, I'm just really worried." My heart jabbed, but not from her story. Of course. She had a son, which meant she must be married. I should have known it couldn't happen. Still, as I glanced at the hand holding her cup, I noticed that her fingers were bare. No wedding ring—but why?

"Well, forgive me if I'm intruding, but you said only you and your son visit. Where's your husband in this?" I asked her, struggling to hide the sorrow and desperation in my voice, and to make it sound like a casual question. Mikki's smile dropped, and I feared that I had trespassed way too far into her personal life.

"I'm not sure. He left years ago." I immediately played the apologetic, shoving aside my innermost thoughts of elation. There was hope for me yet!

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you. I honestly didn't mean to bring up any painful memories." She smiled weakly, a tiny patch to help cover our mixed feelings.

"No, it's alright. I've gotten over it." She shook her head. "Wow, I must seem like such a whiner. All this time I've done nothing but complain. I complained about you being on the neighbor's lawn, about my parent's health condition, and about my ex-husband. I'm the one who should be sorry. I've just had such a shitty life lately." I quickly became shocked, and instantly tried to console her.

"No, no! Nothing of the sort! I enjoy listening to you, and you don't sound even close to a whiner!" I reached over and patted her shoulder, risking slight physical contact. "But we can talk about anything else, if you want to. No need to focus on the past. Why don't we talk about… your son?" And why not? Mothers were always happier to brag about their children—well, most of the time, anyway. It would most likely help cheer her up. She laughed a little at my comment.

"That just involves more whining."

"Then go ahead and whine." She smiled at me, wiping her face with her arm. This smile was true, and it made my heart met even further, until it seemed to puddle into my shoes.

"You're so crazy. But I'm glad I have someone to talk to about these things." She laughed. "It's funny. I've only known you for a few minutes, but I feel like I can share everything with you. Silly." I laughed.

_It's too bad I cannot do the same. Some things are better left secret._

"So, what's to whine about? Is he a troublemaker?" She shook her head, swallowing the last of her tea.

"No. He's an amazing kid: kind, helpful, friendly, optimistic, athletic, all of that. I love him to bits. The only thing is… about a month or so ago, he went missing for over a year. There was no explanation, no ransom notes or threats of running away or anything that I could see. It was just, one day I went to call him down for dinner, and there was no one there. He was just gone." I blinked. Mikki really did have her share of problems.

"But he's home now, right?" I reminded her. "He's safe." Mikki nodded.

"Yeah, that's true. As a matter of fact…" she glanced at the clock. "He should be home any time now." I poured myself some more tea from the kettle, then took a slow drink.

"So, what's his name? You haven't mentioned that." Mikki seemed surprised.

"I didn't? Weird. I didn't even notice." She added another spoonful of sugar, and the sound of the metal clinking against porcelain rang around the room. Before she could answer, however, we heard the sound of the door in the hall whisking open. Something heavy (probably a backpack) thudded heavily against the floor. An all too familiar voice rang out from the hallway. My teacup fell from numb hands to the floor, shattering into fragments and splattering tea all over.

"Hey, Mom! I'm home!" A spiky brunet head poked out from the doorway, pale, matching hands gripping the frame on either side casually. For once, _he _wasn't wearing a ridiculously colored outfit with belts upon zippers upon pockets. Instead, he had on a simple blue school uniform, complete with light jacket and plaid pants.

"Oh, we have a guest? Hi! My name's Sora!"

* * *

_Liek LOLWUT!? How can Sora be in two places at once, in both KHI AND KHII form? HOW??? Find out... in Chapter Five. Ha, I'm mean. I make you guys waaaait. To be continued!_


	4. And Ever, And Ever, And Ever

**Psycho Director: Is it just me, or do these comments keep getting short--**

**Rated PG-13: Medium language, medium violence, no sexual references**

**The author would like to sincerly apologize to any and all Zexion fans in the audiance. It was for the LULZ. The author does not, and never will, own nay more than a stock or two of Kingdom Hearts and My Chemical Romance. "No," says the man in Moscow, "they belong to everyone." Bioshock is so great. w 

* * *

**

_Chapter 4_

Xigbar's PoV

The rifle felt warm in my hands, its barrel smooth and only slightly worn. It was a good quality, the wood handle polished flat. With one arm pulled back, and the other stretched forward, I focused on my target—a target, in all its red-and-white, vaguely person-shaped glory. With just a casual press against the trigger, a deadly projectile was unleashed, making sure the target was dead, dead, dead. It was, but my mark wasn't exactly something to brag to Mum about. I had missed the center by about two rings. But on the other hand, I wasn't used to this kind of weapon. I missed my pistols… or gun-arrows.

The shooting area was loaded with people, milling about like schools of fish. I like fish with tartar sauce. I'm hungry. Some people—few—were at the gallery, trying out everything from water pistols to a galling gun (I don't lie). Others were just passing through to other parts of the fairgrounds, while still others were waiting in line (which were mostly for the galling gun or, oddly, the water pistols) or sitting on randomly strewn hay bales. Take one Lumaria, formally known as Marluxia, or "The Gay Bastard Who Sucks At Anagrams". Why am I the only one who calls him that, anyway? It's so true.

"Come on, Lumy, loosen up. If you keep obsessing over the past, you won't be able to enjoy the future!" I grabbed a stuffed animal being handed to me by a carny distractedly. It was a Mickey Mouse doll-thing, not like I needed it. I already had the ear-hat.

...Hey, hats shaped like ears are cool, shut up.

"But doesn't it seem strange to you?" he argued. "We were killed, but then we all come back with no logic or reason, _at the exact same time_? You died over a year after myself!" He traced in the sun-paled dirt with a stick. "…Are Sora and Naminé still cute, you think?" I tossed the doll into a garbage bin, giving him a weird look.

"Dude. You're a freaking pedophile. Why the hell would I notice that? I was kind of too busy dying a little bit." Reaching behind him, I pulled out my treasure: a mass of every prize to be won from all the shooter games in the park. Every single one. Even the stupid ones. "But who cares? I'm alive now, and that's good enough. _Your_ issues can wait." That wasn't entirely true, but Lumaria didn't need to know the truth. He didn't need to know that I cared…

…About a certain someone…

Like I said, he didn't need to know.

"I'm going to ride the Tilt-and-Hurl until I puke blood. Wanna' come?" He didn't answer, but followed behind anyway.

"Braig, you have to admit it's strange. You are the only other Organization member I've seen! What of the others? Did they survive? Was this Xemnas's doing?" I sighed, exasperated.

"Dude, I don't know. You died. Everyone else died, except for maybe Xemnas. We came back. That's aaaaaall I know, and yeah, it's strange. Cotton candy?" I plopped fifty cents against the counter of the tiny white stand, and was handed two huge sticks of the stuff as a result. Lumaria seemed horrified at me for some reason.

"How can you _eat_? We could die at any moment, or anything! This freedom could be jerked away again, or… or… _we don't know how we're alive_! _How do we know we're going to stay that way_!?" People were staring. I waved.

"Alright, alright. Xemnas killed your stupid little boyfriend. He then used Kingdom Hearts to bring our hearts back to us. We ended up here because our souls were here. We live. Happy now?"

"…Why do I converse with you again?"

"I've been trying to figure that out for years. Maybe you're crazy."

"That makes as much sense as all else that has been going on."

"Hey, at least I'm trying. Do you still want your cotton candy, or can I eat it?"

"I thought you were going to puke blood."

"Well I need to build up ammunition, don't I?"

"…I positively _loathe _you."

"I'll take that as a no." I smiled and began devouring the pink, fluffy stuff. Lumaria only watched, his eyes darting around the carnival.

"First thing we need to do is contact the other members. Well… no, wait. Just Xemnas, Larxene, maybe Saïx… not Axel, Vexen, Lexaeus, or Zexion. They are—"

"'_So_ out of our happy circle', right?"

"_No_. They are not worthy to—"

"Join our happy circle!"

"_No_. They are not worthy to be among us."

"…"

"…"

"Oh, now?"

"Wait, what?"

"_In our happy circle_!"

"Just shut up, Braig, just shut up."

"Oh, don't be like that, honey!" It should be noted that I was yelling this part. "You know in your heart that you _love _me, as I love you! _WHY WON'T YOU LOVE ME_!?" I threw my hands up into the air, my face turning red from the urge not to laugh my ass off. Lumaria's was also turning red, but it was from barely suppressed anger. I decided to change the subject before he exploded.

"Hey, who's that guy over there near the line? That one really short guy getting suppressed by Security? Ha, sucks to be him! Look at him go! Active little guy, isn't he? Yay, let's all laugh at the short person!" Lumaria didn't answer. He was staring at the dude being dragged away by Security, mouth agape. I kept going.

"Hey, do you think they'll have to bring out the tazers? I heard those stunt your growth. Not like he needs it, though. Man, wonder what he did? Lumy?"

"Braig… do you notice something familiar about that man…?" I took a closer look, shading my eyes from the sun with my hand.

"What? You mean besides the fact that he looks kind of like the lead singer on My Chemical Romance? 'Cause I kind of noticed that already…" I died off, noticing the same thing Lumaria did. I stared at the guy, stunned beyond belief. No way. What were the odds?! My next words I said were practically gasped out.

"Z-Zexion?"

* * *

_Relena's PoV_

"I brought some snacks…" the voice sang. Twerpy and I were frozen in place on the floor, a Keyblade inches from my skull and my fingers wrapped around his neck lightly, not enough to choke.

"Oh, Goddammit," I groaned to a chorus of Twerpy's laughter. The doorknob turned, and the door creaked open. Toting a bag of Doritos, someone stepped—no, _skipped_—into the room. My brand-spanking-new heart just about stopped as I stared at him with wide eyes.

"Demyx?" I noticed that my time away had changed him, too. His Mohawk was spiked over to one side, and was darker. Brownish, but faded to its original blonde at the tips. Also, the mullet part was considerably shorter, so it wasn't a mullet at all. He was dressed in a light blue jacket, dark jeans, and a dark blue shirt with a series of musical notes going up the left side. His shoes were plain white, with laces and junk. I guessed he must have become a Somebody as well. But, why? How?

He cocked his head to one side, the Doritos bag crinkling. Twerpy had stopped laughing as soon as he entered, and stared at him, much like a lazy cat to a dangly toy. Not really interestedly, but with rapt attention.

"Demyx? Who's Demyx? My name's Myde." I sighed, moving my hands off Twerpy's neck and onto his chest, pushing him to the ground distractedly with a surprised "oomph!". Fine. If Demyx wanted to play the stupidity game, then I could work with that.

"Well, whatever. It doesn't matter. But could you do me a quick favor?" Demyx—err, _Myde_—shrugged.

"Sure. What?" I pointed to Twerpy, who was still lying down, with his arms laced lazily behind his head. He was smiling slightly, for no know reason.

"Isn't it obvious? Just hold him down. I'll go get something sharp." I was halfway to my feet when Myde said something that made me freeze.

"Erm… hold _who_ down?" I stared impatiently into his confused face, drawing up as much patience as I could muster.

"De… Myde, are you as _blind _as you are _stupid_? I mean, this guy. Right here." I tugged at one of Twerpy's spikes, and he batted my hand away. I glanced down at him. His smile was getting bigger. He knew what was going on, and wasn't about to enlighten me. Myde took a few steps closer.

"Um… I don't know how to tell you this, ma'am, but… there's no one there." I raised an eyebrow. What were those two trying to pull? I spread my arms out a bit.

"Myde, stop acting ridiculous. I mean, the short kid right here. Brunet, black jacket, retarded red jumpsuit, clown shoes… ringing any bells? And what's with all of this 'ma'am' stuff? We spent two years together in the Organization. You were a Nobody, like me. But then, this _evil little bastard—_" this was emphasized by three angry kicks to Twerpy's stomach "—went and killed me, and I can only assume you, too. You can't just go and forget your own _death_, so don't even try to fool me." Myde walked over to me.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you're really confused. I don't remember any of that, and… right here, you said? …There's no one here. Look." I didn't want to, but I looked. Myde reached his hand down. This was it. His hand would brush against that stupid red cloth, and then the gig would be up. He'd have to confess that he was a lying ass.

It didn't brush against the jumpsuit. Much to my shock and horror, his hand went right through. It touched the floor, through Twerpy's stomach, then waved around in an arc. In Twerpy's gut… out… in… out… Twerpy giggled.

"Hee, hee. That tickles." I stared at him, stunned. What going on? That brat… was an _illusion_? Was I seeing things like some sort of psycho? Or had someone made him, like a hologram or something? No, that last one couldn't be true. I had felt pain whenever he had successfully hit me. Or… had I?

I checked my arms. He had hit my right arm once, really hard, during the fight. But as I stared, there was nothing. No red marks, no bruises, _nothing_. There were also no boot marks on my fingers, I noticed with numb surprise. He was a figment of my imagination. Just like the Axel that had made me fall off the platform when I was in darkness. Was that made up, too? I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"We're going to be together _forever_, Larxene. You and me. Axel will be joining us soon. Won't that be fun? Just us three, forever and ever and ever," Twerpy smiled. I screamed.

* * *

_To be continued! 8D_


End file.
